Reaper Society

Chapter 11: Gold Eyes

Some time in between the sixth or tenth wave of fire rushing up my bones, my mind goes numb and blankets the nerves in my body, muffling the extent of the pain enough that I think I black out. When I come to again, I'm shaking, still hunched over and gripping the sheets with my hands and dripping sweat. It chills against my skin as I blink the haze from my eyes and see Asher watching me. His face relaxes a degree from the usual empty calculation into the hints of relief.

"Still conscious," Asher's voice is almost...approving... I blink at him in reply, relieved to see him recapping the scalpel. The silver is glinting with the red of my blood, making a shiver flutter through me.

Asher peels open another couple of alcohol pads and cleans up the bloodied mess of my legs. As the stinging from the antiseptic dies, the pain subdued when my mentor lightly blows over the fresh cuts, I can only gape at him. The mess of wet gauze in my mouth falls into my lap in a gross mess, but I can't be bothered to give a shit right now. Ash-hole is trying to ease he sting from the alcohol on my wounds. What kind of alternate universe is this? Did I die for real when I blacked out? Or is this some kind of screwed up dream?

As my mentor lifts his head from my legs and the shock of the moment continues. This time, it's the actual sight of my legs that's making me gawk. Intricate and delicate black lines have taken the place of the scratches on my skin, patterns of the ink-like darkness look almost exactly like those I'd seen on the Reaper, Glory. I lean a little closer, nearly doubling over to stare at the nearly-invisible puckered, white lines beneath the gorgeous runes.

"That's amazing," I whisper, reaching one of my uncoordinated hands to trace up the aching flesh. I wince as my scarred fingers make the skin smart. "Do they always hurt after?" I ask Asher, looking up at him. I'd failed to realize just how close our faces were before that, now just an inch away as our eyes lock. Asher's reddish-brown eyes have that ember-like glow warming them as he studies me, a carnal hunger echoed deep in the depths of his dilating pupils.

"They'll be sensitive for a few hours until you heal completely," Asher replies without missing a beat. I almost jump as a tingling pressure rolls up from my ankles. I look down to see his hands moving slowly up and down the fresh runes - but where my touch had caused pain, his is...

"Wh-what're you doing?" I stutters out the first word, my voice roughened by strain and lust. His hands apply more pressure, fingers working over the tensed muscles and attempting to soothe the wave of goosebumps there. I let out an embarrassingly loud moan as an intense pleasure shoots from his fingers right to my core. My body tenses as my skin heats and my breathing becomes ragged.

"Making it feel better." Asher mutters softly, continuing the massaging assault over my calves and coaxing another moan from me. "Relax, or your muscles are going to cramp up." He hums at me, his voice taking on a more melodic quality that sends more heat zinging through me. I shudder, but comply without a word, allowing my leg muscles to relax under his expert fingers. "There you go," He breathes almost sensually. I shudder again, fighting to keep some semblance of control as pleasure continues to work it's way through me in waves.

Has it really been so long that a man's touched me even remotely sexually that one massage has me careening towards the edge? Or is there something about this guy that gives him an edge? I can't just be so attracted to this asshole that the barest hint of kindness has me metaphorically tripping into lust for him. No... It has to be some sort of trick. Some power or something. I can't be lusting after him for no reason. I just can't.

"Teach me!" I burst out, so loud it makes heat rise to my cheeks the second it explodes from my mouth. Asher quirks his eyebrows at me, a knowing smirk twitching the edges of his pouty lips. I shudder and force my annoyance up to the surface as I clear my throat. "Might as well teach me something while we're waiting for my legs to heal enough." I clarify in a more controlled tone, but the words still come out a little breathy and high for my liking. "I keep seeing glowing eyes." I blurt out one of the things that have been simmering in the back of my head.

"Reapers, as well as some other supernaturals," Asher nods slowly, speaking even as his wonderful hands continue to lavish my legs with his attention. "Do have glowing eyes when using power. Reapers," He adds slowly, reddish-brown eyes flaring bright red for emphasis. When they do that, the zinging tingles amp up a few degrees and I have to clamp my thighs together as the heat makes...other muscles clench. Asher's sex-and-sin smirk grows for a second before he continues...like the asshole knows exactly what I'm feeling. "Especially the more powerful of them, can have glowing eyes. The color can vary depending on what species the Reaper was prior to their...induction." There's a bitter edge to his words again, but his touch continues to be gentle.

"Do mine glow?" I ask him with a frown, the question of what I look like now, aside from what I've already seen of my body, flutters to the forefront of my brain. I can't feel anything unusual on my forehead - not physically - but I still wonder if the mark Blair made on my skin was really burned into my skin. Some distant, very distant, vain portion of me wonders if I still look the same. Do I have any new scars? On my face? Am I still the same brown-eyed girl I remember? Do I have some foreign color in them now?

"They do." Asher nods, eyes locking on mine now - making my stomach flutter as they seem to bore deep into me.

"What color?" I blurt out the question, again just a little too breathily, as his fingers dig into a particularly sensitive spot above my ankle. A jolt of pleasure zaps right up my leg as I reflexively suck in a breath, my leg jerking. Asher holds tight to my limb, eyes still locked fiercely on mine. A fresh shiver rolls down my spine as the tingles settle into my core and my breathing becomes more uneven.

"Gold." Asher nods to me, the glow in his eyes dimming to a more 'normal' shade, though that only makes him look sexier. More attainable. More human.

"Does it mean something?" I manage to almost sound like my usual self.

"The color of a Reaper's eyes normally indicates power. Some keep the natural hue of their original forms," Asher's eyes flare red before the color dies out to the reddish brown I've become used to. "Others..." He looks to me meaningfully, his eyes searching mine almost emotionlessly. If it wasn't for the slight ember-like glow from his eyes, I'd think he were a wax statue and not an actual person. "Come into their power once they've been inducted."

"Okay, so I'm supposed to be stronger now?" I ask, wondering if I'm understanding this right.

"Something like that." Asher agrees, but his non-expression has me squirming a little. He's holding something back. Something important, I suspect, but the thought doesn't manage to go much further as his hands skate up my shins and over my knee caps. The second his bare skin skims my still-normal and clean skin, the zings of pleasure go from tingles to electric zaps.

My lips part as a long string of half-moaned profanities spew from my mouth, my head tipping back in ecstasy. My mind goes hazy, tremors rocking my body as the heat ramps up to nearly-unbearable heights. Asher's hands pause over my thighs, but the damage is done.

I'm pretty sure I black out again, this time I can only feel the intense heat flooding me and sending every cell of my body into overdrive. When I finally come out of it, whatever the fuck 'it' is, I'm breathing hard, my heart jack hammering in my chest like I've just faced another cyclone of demon-cats. But no, it's only my mentor in front of me, in the exact same position as before, only his hands are gripping my thighs a little tighter.

Sex God seems to be an apt label for him right about now. I shiver as the chill of the aftershocks cools me. Asher's got a dreamy look in his eyes, a slightly unfocused kind of expression that has me wondering if he just felt what I did. I jerk away from him, scooting a few feet back until I can feel the wall at my back. My mentor watches me move, the calculating, predatory nature is back in his reddish-brown eyes that are now gleaming with more red than brown.

He suddenly looks a thousand times hotter than before, so bright and conflictingly dark that my mind short-circuits with whiplash thoughts. But under it all, I can feel fear edging into me. The look he's giving me isn't all-together nice. He looks...hungry. And not in the way I want to be eyed.